What's in a Name
by Self Deprecating Writer
Summary: How Albert Sartre got the nickname 'Chocolate Bear.'


CAUTION: 19 lines of intro before story!

Chocolate Bear.

I know you guys most likely understand the 'Bear' but I'm not sure if you all understand the chocolate.

However, he wasn't referred to as Chocolate Bear until one faithful day.

The day

He couldn't

RESIST

*insert drooling person here looking into the window of a chocolate store*

I swear.

Bring this guy to Hershey Park.

God help whoever tries to get him to leave.

Anyways~

To finally begin this effin story….

Oh yeah.

And if you already know or have a pretty good clue why I call him Chocolate Bear

Well…

FIGURE OUT AGAIN

Via readings this story

NOW

It will begin

At this point in time, Bear-Hair was about 13 years of age and nomming on a small box of chocolate candies, humming, walking down the street in beat with his gay tune and what not.

It was pretty nice.

Shining sun.

Birds chirping.

All was picture perfect.

But then

There was this smell.

This

Smelly smell

This smell of smelly things that smelled

SMELLY

I swear. I haven't used the word smell in so long, it's foreign to me now…

I'm not even exaggerating when I say the Japanese language is ten times less foreign to me than this is.

Back to the smell!

That smell was

Dare I say it

The smell of Mrs. Andrew's chocolate pecan pie

OH GAWD IT'S AMAZING~

Bear-Hair was drawn to it like he was to anything chocolate

However, he couldn't help but feel a bit like an animal

This was so new to him

Unfortunately for Mrs. Anderson, he knew where she lived and stalked those blessed, heavenly, all Godly fumes and stood at the window watching it sit on the stove.

Taunting him.

Calling his name.

Sucking the very life out of him as he watched in horror knowing that someone else would get to taste what was so luscious and pure.

His face was quite literally pressed against, if not pressed into the glass of the window.

Actually, truth be told, he had actually pressed his face through the glass, broke it, and Mr. Anderson was staring at the boy the whole time.

"Um…son?"

"MINE!"

The boy leaped through the window, breaking whatever was left running through Mr. Anderson and stood over the precious chocolate pecan pie and trembled.

Mr. Anderson on the other hand was groaning in pain as Albert's feet seemed to be planted in his stomach and as he tried to call for his wife, Albert placed a finger over the man's lips and his own.

His eyes were indeed red, but at this moment far from hostile.

Mrs. Anderson just heard the noise and slowly walked to the entrance of the kitchen and then-

"QUICK! What does this look like?"

The brunette was shocked by the sudden outburst towards her.

"I-it looks like a young boy by the name of Albert Sartre broke though m window and is now about to molest my husband."

She giggled folding her arms not minding the boy's presence.

Not yet anyways.

"Good! That's exactly what it looks like!"

"Wait, wut?"

The husband and wife said simultaneously

"THERE IS NO TIME TO EXPLAIN!"

"Y-you were going to molest me?"

Mr. Anderson asking in complete horror.

"I told you there's not time to explain!"

The boy pretty much spazzed.

"Quick! Please! Mrs. Anderson, I am going to steal the pie and jump out of that unshattered window across the room even though I could jump through the one I entered or use the door that is 3 feet away from me."

Mrs. Anderson nodded and stood like a soldier ready for command.

"Within that time, I want you to call the police. Am I clear?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

And straight to the phone she went.

Before anyone knew it, the pie and Bear-Hair was gone.

"Hello, this is the police."

"Um hello? Yes, a boy just broke into my house and stole my chocolate pecan pie and told me to call the police. And he jumped through two windows."

There was silence.

"The pie had chocolate in it?"

"Yes sir."

"You're talking about Little Bear, correct?"

Yes, Albert was that well known.

"Yes. That is him."

"I swear, that boy is on chocolate like a child on cough drop medicine. Is there anyway you'd like us to help you?"

"No, just calling."

"Well, have a nice day, ma'am"

"You too officer~"

The lady giggled and put the phone back on the hook, thus hanging up.

~*Back at the police office*~

"What was the call?"

"That kid again. Little Bear. Heh! Broke into a ladies house and took her pecan pie."

Officer Lawrence.

A fat but jolly man he was.

"He…stole a pecan pie?"

Officer Babineaux.

Small but very tough and demanding woman.

"It had chocolate in it."

"Eh? OH~ Heh, for a second I thought you had Little Bear confused with someone else. Figures he would steal a pie. So what happened to the victim."

"Apparently Little Bear told the woman to call the police and she didn't want to file and charges."

"I see."

The woman pondered.

"Say, officer Lawrence, do you think we should come up with a new name for Little Bear?"

"A new name? Like what?"

The man chuckles and stretched.

"I don't know. Perhaps…Chocolate Bear?"

There was silence.

Officer Lawrence blinked once.

Then twice.

"To be quite honest Babineaux…I think we should call him that from now on."

Both officer and the rest of the building had a good laugh and the day ended.

~*Next week*~

Albert was walking down the street.

Again.

The day was perfect.

Again.

However, this time he wasn't going to break Mrs. Anderson's windows.

Again.

Both of which he forced the couple to make him pay for it.

At first, the only sounds were his foot steps and bells over shop doors ringing above his head.

But then

He heard a gallop

Slow and in perfect rhythm

Approaching him with the utmost caution, if anything.

"Hey, Chocolate Bear!"

The boy blinked and waved to officer

"Bonjour Monsieur Lawrence~"

And from that day, Albert Sartre was known as Chocolate Bear

FOREVER

The end~

Hope you liked it


End file.
